


For The Love Of A Cat

by Lark (Larkaidikalikani)



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Animal Transformation, Case Fic, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Post 3x06, Sorry Not Sorry, Witches, cat!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-01-31 19:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12688608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkaidikalikani/pseuds/Lark
Summary: While investigating a sacrificial killing, Lucifer pisses off a witch and is cursed into cat form. The cure is something he is sure will never be possible. Somehow he must convince Chloe to kill the witch for him and solve the case at the same time, which is difficult when someone keeps squealing over "toe-beans" and Maze is too busy laughing her ass off to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I regret nothing. Unbeta'd.

“We’ve got a case,” said Chloe, slapping a file down on her desk beside where Lucifer was resting his feet. He looked up from his phone and arched a brow. 

“What kind?” he asked with interest. They’d been case-less for the last week and he’d been starting to wonder if LA’s murderers were on strike. “A lover’s quarrel turned into a crime of passion? A vicious stabbing? Ooh, a locked room murder?” he asked as he swung his feet back to the floor, warming to the subject. 

“Actually you’re not far off there,” Chloe said, grabbing some notes from her desk drawer. “Young woman, stabbed multiple times in the abdomen, found in a locked room in the Sunset Tower Hotel. Come on.” 

Lucifer bounced out of her desk chair and followed her out of the precinct, chattering away as she listened with an amused ear.

\---

Chloe strode into the crime scene with Lucifer sauntering along behind, and blanched slightly. Even Lucifer looked slightly disturbed at the grisly scene. The report had not done it justice - there was the woman, lying in the centre of the floor, surrounded by what looked like occult symbols written in her blood. Unlit candles were placed at even intervals in a circle around the body, and herbs and what looked like animal bones were lying in small heaps around them. The dagger was still implanted in her stomach right up to the hilt, and was being photographed by the ever-enthusiastic Ella. 

“Please don’t tell me this is another Satanist case,” Lucifer nearly whined. Chloe felt a flash of sympathy - he _hated_ the people who claimed to worship the devil, likely because in his experience with the homicide department they did things like sacrifice people. Not that she actually believed his claims of being the Devil, but he seemed to take it personally and she was a good enough friend to be upset on his behalf. 

“Actually, this looks more like some kind of made up witchy ritual,” said Ella. Everyone looked at her in surprise. “What? I watch a lot of Supernatural and it got me into some weird 3am research. Anyway, see those symbols over there?” she pointed to a cluster of bloody marks on the carpet, “I’m pretty sure those are Celtic, while _those_ over there,” she waved her hand to a different area, “are norse runes. Whoever set this up is mish-mashing several different religious types together. The herbs and bones are a bit more on the witchy side.”

“Ooh, witches!” said Lucifer excitedly. “Very sexy.” He waggled his eyebrows at Chloe who ignored her silly partner.

“Witches or not, it probably started as a crime of passion,” Chloe muttered, carefully squatting down next to the corpse and staring at the wounds on the chest. “See where she’s been stabbed multiple times here?” she used a gloved finger to move the victim’s shirt slightly to reveal the marks. 

Ella looked over and frowned. “We know the killer was taller than her at least,” she said.

“How?” asked Chloe.

Ella stood up and grabbed Lucifer’s jacket sleeve, dragging him forward to where Chloe could see them both in profile. He gave her a bemused look as she raised his hand and formed it into a fist, then grabbed him by the wrist with both of her gloved hands. “The killer started the stab from a position probably like this,” she said, moving Lucifer’s fist closer to his lower chest. She pulled it towards her lower belly suddenly, miming the stabbing motion. “Then stabbed forwards and downwards, leaving an angled cut.” Ella repeated the motion several times to the amusement of Chloe and the CSIs watching, and Lucifer apparently couldn’t resist a dirty grin directed at Chloe. Ella, oblivious to the double meaning behind the actions she’d had him mime, let him go and picked up her camera again. 

Chloe gave one last look at the wounds, then stood up and turned to a uniformed officer who had entered the room in time to see Ella’s demonstration. He was still fighting off a grin as she asked him, “Do we know who was renting the room yet?” 

“Yes, a group of women were in town for some kind of supernatural convention. Not the show,” he quickly added at Ella’s excited expression, “some kind of psychic witch thing going on at another hotel nearby. They left here around 8 and the maid found the body around noon.” He gave Chloe the address and a printout with the names of the women renting the room. 

“Vic’s name is Jenny Stuart,” Ella announced from where she’d found the woman’s purse shoved under the bed, reading the driver’s license. “From New York, age 23. Her birthday was two days ago. Crappy birthday present,” she finished a bit sadly. She put the card and purse into an evidence bag.

“That’s one of the names on this list,” said Chloe. She turned to Lucifer. “Let’s go to the convention and try to track down these other women,” she said.

“Lead the way, detective,” he replied, gesturing gallantly towards the open door.


	2. Chapter 2

The convention hall was loud, full of humans, and plastered with banners and booths advertising occult paraphernalia. Lucifer trailed after Chloe, eyes wide at the sheer amount of weird stuff on display. He kept pausing at various tables, distracted by the goods and services offered. Custom tarot cards at one table, crystals at another (he snorted loudly at the seller’s flirtatious claims that her samples of black coral would boost his virility - he needed no help in _that_ department, thank you). His eyes just about rolled back into his head as he passed a couple of Satanist displays, not saying anything to them only because Chloe had come back to find out why he wasn’t beside her and tugged him away.

Eventually they found the table being run by their suspects at the other end of the hall. A speaker on a stage nearby made it hard for Lucifer to hear as Chloe confirmed their names, flashed her badge at them, and asked them to follow her to a quieter area. They stepped out of the hall and into a quiet stairwell.

“What is this about?” asked the blonde ‘witch’ - Angela McTimothy - impatiently. “We have a booth to run!”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your friend Jenny Stuart was found dead a couple of hours ago,” began Chloe. She was prevented from continuing by the sudden wailing from the red-headed woman, whose legal name was apparently Clover Rose. Either her parents hated her or she was loopy enough to change it to that, mused Lucifer. Well, loopier than she already had to be to be practicing witchcraft.

The brunette woman, Cynthia, grabbed her friend into a hug and stared at the partners with wide eyes brimming with tears. “What happened?” she asked.

“Your friend was murdered,” Chloe replied. “And it seems you three were the last to see her alive. We need to take you down to the station to answer some questions.”

“You can’t think we’re suspects!” exclaimed Angela in a crisp Irish accent. She flicked her hair over her shoulder contemptuously. “She was our best friend, a member of our coven! We would rather die than hurt her!” The other two nodded vigorously in agreement. Lucifer shifted impatiently where he was leaning against the handrail of the stairs. The whole witch thing was already beginning to wear on him and was turning out to be a lot less sexy than he’d hoped. Damnit. “There was sacred energy between us, we did positive rituals together and-”

“Ladies, she was laid out like a sacrificial goat,” Lucifer smoothly cut in. Chloe glared at him with her patented ‘Lucifer, you’re ignoring social norms again’ look which he completely ignored. He was fully aware he was being a dick. “Given your fanciful practice of delusional ‘magic’” he said, air-quoting, “even you have to admit that looks suspicious to the detective here.”

“Bit rich of you to be accusing other people of delusional magic,” Chloe muttered to him while the trio of witches glared at him furiously. Lucifer felt instantly offended. 

“I never lie, my dear. I am what I say I am, and I am honest to a fault. I draw out people’s deepest desires, I don’t mislead them or sell them bullshit like these charlatans,” he said stiffly, waving a hand at the irate women. “Taking advantage of innocent people and conning them into spending their life savings on tricks and dried plants, it’s shameful,” he continued. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” said Chloe firmly, eying the women who looked like they were about to pounce on her companion, and not in a way he’d enjoy. Lucifer noticed that the uniformed officers Chloe had asked to discreetly follow them had arrived in the stairwell as he was ranting. “Officers, can you please escort these ladies to the station? Come on, you,” Chloe directed at Lucifer, “before one of them turns you into a toad,” she finished quietly. He barked out a laugh as they walked away.

\---

Several hours later Lucifer wearily walked into his penthouse and slung his suit jacket on the back of the couch as he sat down with a sigh. The interviews at the station had gone about as well as expected, especially since he was banned from the interrogation room at Chloe’s behest after he pissed off the self-proclaimed witches at the convention. He’d had to watch through the two-way mirror with the Dan. He scrubbed his hands over his face, leaning back on the couch and putting his feet on the coffee table. He went over the interviews mentally - there had been five of them to get through as they’d collected a couple of other women from the convention at Angela McTimothy’s suggestion.

Angela’s interview had been first. The blonde Irishwoman was fiery, protesting any suggestion that she or any of her ‘sisters’ had had anything to do with their friend’s death. She’d sworn that she and her coven had left early that morning to set up at the convention and that Jenny, who’d been uncharacteristically hungover from partying the night before, was planning to meet them a few hours later for lunch.

The unfortunately named Clover Rose and what turned out to be her actual sister and the third of the trio, Cynthia had been next, each with the same story. Jenny had gone out the night before with two women who were acquaintances of the group, had too much to drink, and had been hungover in bed the last time they saw her that morning.

The two women in question had been brought in, protesting that they were missing the convention. They were twin psychics running a gig that told people what the ‘deepest desires of their hearts’ were. Chloe had shot an amused look at the glass behind which Lucifer was standing, obviously knowing that he was outraged at the rip-off of his trademark power.

He snorted in a semi-annoyed way at the memory, hands still covering his face as he reclined on the couch. It had been a long day for him considering he still had had a set to play downstairs before he could retire for the evening. Uncovering one eye, he glanced at the clock across the room. 2am. Frankly that was his usual bedtime, but normally he was pleasantly smashed and entwined with some beauty or other by this point. For some reason he was stone-cold sober and alone. Carnal delights had lost some of their allure for him since he gave Chloe the bullet necklace (if he was being honest with himself, and he wasn’t, it started long before that. On a beach, with a kiss). Not that he hadn’t partaken since then, but he’d definitely toned it down over the last several months to the dryest spell he’d had in a long while. Maze would be ashamed of him if she found out.

He leaned forward on the couch with a tired groan, making to stand up when the _ding_ of the elevator startled him. He grinned; perhaps he wouldn’t be going to bed as alone as he thought. He stood and turned toward the elevator and halted, puzzled. The lift was empty. A loud click from his behind him made him whirl around in surprise, coming face to face with the muzzle of a gun. 

He cocked an annoyed brow, and took in the person holding the weapon to his face. It was the brunette witch, Cynthia. She hadn’t made as much of an impression on him as her sister or Angela, somewhat fading into the background when the three had been together.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he drawled.

“You need to learn some respect,” said the woman. He noted with interest that, while she was obviously angry, she wasn’t wavering an inch in her aim. Her eyes were clear and steadily fixed on him.

“Did Jenny need to learn some respect too?” he inquired. “I’d say this little episode makes it clear who’s capable of murder in your little coven.”

“I didn’t kill Jenny,” she said calmly. “And while I’d like to find out who did, Detective Decker seems capable enough without you. Her investigation won’t suffer if I take you out of commission for a while.” She cocked the gun.

Lucifer stuck his hands in his pockets casually. “Go ahead. I’m immortal, love.” He waited for the shot, ready to scare her out of her wits once she realized that it didn’t harm him. He may not have his devil face any more but he could still make his wings useful for _something_ \- they tended to freak out people just as well as red eyes and scars. 

“Oh, I know,” came the reply. Lucifer was taken aback. “I know exactly what you are, Lucifer. I also don’t care - I didn’t bring this to hurt you, honestly, I just needed to make you listen for a moment.” She uncocked the gun and slid it into the back of her jeans, under her leather jacket. Lucifer took a step back, more than a little surprised. “You’ve been going around this city, screwing anything with a pulse, and manipulating people left, right, and centre. You’re disrespectful and on a power trip - so I’m here to bring you down a peg or two. You’ll get a chance to see the world from a different angle.” 

With that, she flicked the lighter she’d had hidden in her hand and dropped it to the floor. The flames spread rapidly around him in a circle, lighting up symbols scrawled on the floor in alcohol. She raised her hands and began chanting.

Lucifer attempted to jump out of the circle, shocked beyond belief when he realized he couldn’t move past the flames. _What was this?!_ The flames weren’t spreading, he noticed with slightly hysterical relief, but they weren’t abating either. As the witch chanted, they actually grew taller and in a fit of desperation he unfurled his wings and attempted to flap them, hard. He yelped as they painfully slammed against the invisible barrier in a shower of sparks. He staggered, overbalancing while trying to compensate for his wings. The witch continued her chanting, and Lucifer noticed that his vision seemed to be clouding over. A sudden weariness came over him and he sank to his knees unwillingly, wings drooped around him. His last thought as the blackness overcame him was that he was definitely going to install a passcode on that lift from now on to stop random assassins from getting into his apartment. This was getting to be a bad habit.


	3. Chapter 3

Lucifer’s head pounded fiercely. He moaned slightly, not moving from where he was lying on something hard. He could hear the humming of the fridge in the kitchen louder than he’d ever noticed before and it was practically drilling a hole into his head. The sounds of the club downstairs echoed up faintly to him, audible even over that damnable fridge. He was selling that thing and getting a new one as soon as his head stopped trying to explode. 

He paused in his sluggish thoughts for a moment, disturbed by something. He’d never been able to hear the club floor from his penthouse before unless the windows were open - there were several floors between him and the party. He tried to hold onto the thought, but it drifted away.

Several moments later, he realized that he could hear a person breathing loudly. Idly, he decided he must have gotten completely hammered and high and hooked up with someone, though this come down was by far one of the worst he’d ever experienced. He must be lying on the floor, too, he thought grumpily. May as well try to make it to the bed, tired as he was. He’d regret it even more if he didn’t.

Course of action decided upon, it took a monumental effort of will to open his eyes. When he did, he just stared, trying to figure out what he was looking at. There was a giant wooden pillar in front of him, supporting an oddly low, fabric-covered ceiling. He shifted his head slightly and a giant pair of women’s feet came into view. _What the fuck?_ He startled backwards, attempting to stand only to stagger and fall. Other parts of his flat came into view, strangely massive to go along with the _giant person reaching for him holy shit._ He scrambled, trying to get away but completely unable to gain any kind of balance. His legs and arms weren’t responding to his commands properly.

The giant hand pressed down on his back, holding him still on his stomach, limbs splayed uncomfortably. He felt an odd pressure at the base of his spine, and a strange touch over his heels and feet like something was swishing back and forth. He froze as he caught sight of his arms and hands, stretched forward in front of him.

_Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no_ he thought, desperately willing the spotted silvery white furred limbs to turn back into hands. All at once, everything rushed back: the case, the witch, the fire. There was a booming chuckle above him, and he glared up at the woman’s face above him.

Continuing to hold the shape-changed Devil to the ground, Cynthia lowered herself to sit cross-legged in front of him. Her voice took on an Irish lilt that had been absent before. “This is how it works, Lucifer. You’re stuck in this shape until the conditions of the curse are met. You’ll retain your mind, though you may find yourself affected by new instincts - the curse acts a little differently on everyone.” To his fury, she started stroking him along the length of his back, still holding him down. 

“MNAH!” he let out, to his embarrassment. In his mind he furiously thought, _When I change back I am going to rip her to pieces!_

Cocking her head, Cynthia grinned as if she understood him. “The conditions are these: you must find a human who loves you unconditionally, in full knowledge of who and what you are. Think of it like Beauty and the Beast, except you can’t talk so…” she shrugged. “Good luck to you I guess.” With that, she stood up, brushed herself off, and walked to the elevator. She grinned as he tried to follow, only to fall flat on his face once more. He glared his fury as the lift doors closed on her and he was left alone.

Lucifer was absolutely livid. How dare she _violate_ him like this? He struggled to his feet, managing to stay on all four of them this time. He swayed slightly, and his tail moved in counterpoint to keep his balance. He glanced back at the offending limb, because that was a thing now too. A sneaky thought that he’d look even stupider as a cat without a tail crossed his mind and he shook his head to clear it. He shouldn’t be a cat at all, tail or no.

Taking a deep breath (and instantly wishing he hadn’t, he needed to get the maid up here more often because he could smell the garbage can under the sink from here and that was just gross), he stepped forward carefully with one paw. Slowly, he staggered forward across the floor towards the bedroom. The stairs stymied him for a moment, until he chanced a little hop and managed to get up them. His head was much clearer now, and he walked more confidently this time towards the bathroom. The rhythm of the steps was becoming more instinctive the more he walked, which he was thankful for. If he had to be a cat at least he could be a dignified one and walk in a straight line.

He stepped into the bathroom and froze as he saw himself in the floor-length mirror on the wall. Fascinated, he stepped closer and examined himself. His fur was a silvery white colour with unusual inky black spots, which continued along his tail to form rings and ended in a black tip. Black lines rimmed his eyes, and his nose and lips were smoky-dark as well. Small dots marked where his whiskers stood out on his white muzzle.

He tilted his head and swished his tail. At least he was a pretty sexy cat, he thought smugly. The ears were a little large though, and his legs seemed longer than the average cat’s. Actually, he thought, visually estimating his height against the tiles on the wall, he seemed to be much bigger than the average cat as well. And he’d never seen a house cat with these kinds of spots. He frowned, which looked odd on his cat-face.

_I wonder..._ he thought, and concentrated. His wings burst into existence on his back, shrunk down to match his current shape, though they retained their pure white colour and slight divine sheen. At least that worked, although a flying cat would be hard to explain if he was going to be out in the open and trying to track down the bitch that did this to him. He couldn’t draw attention to himself. 

Lucifer cracked a huge yawn, and realized just how tired he still was. He glanced at his bed, then took a running leap and a flap of his wings had him landing successfully (if not gracefully) on the duvet. He lay down, wrapped his wings around him in a rare bid for comfort, and closed his eyes just for a moment.

\---

The elevator doors dinging open and footsteps across the floor of the main room startled him awake, and he tucked his wings away and dashed into the bedroom to hide under the bed.

“Lucifer, you here?” he heard Maze call. Morning light streamed through the windows to light up the penthouse, casting a warm glow over his demon.

He meowed loudly, hating himself a little, and crawled out from under the bed to sit at the top of the steps from the living room. Maze jumped a little, then looked incredulously at the cat that definitely had no business being in her former boss’s apartment. Before she could call animal control or something equally as horrific, Lucifer willed his wings back into existence.

Maze’s jaw dropped, and she stared for a moment. Then she howled with laughter, arms crossed across her stomach and bending over with the force of it. 

Lucifer glared, and waited for her to stop.

And waited.

_It’s not_ that _funny,_ he thought irritably.

“Oh, it is, it is,” said Maze.

Hang on a second…

_Mazikeen, can you understand me?_ he thought excitedly.

Sitting on the ground now and still giggling every few seconds, Maze’s eyes widened as she realized he hadn’t spoken with his mouth. “Yeah, I can -hic- actually. What happened?”

His ears flicked back and his tail lashed angrily. _One of the witches from the case Chloe and I were working yesterday decided I needed a lesson in humility,_ he thought at her. 

Maze sobered. “A witch?” She asked skeptically. Lucifer nodded. He took a second to tuck his wings away again. “She didn’t happen to tell you how to change back?”

_She did, actually._ said Lucifer. He was surprised, now that he took a moment to think about it. _Something about having to be loved for who I truly am or something. Since that’s an obvious no go, we’re going to just kill her._

Maze grinned evilly. “I like that plan. Where do we start?”

_I’m thinking we’ll tag onto Chloe’s investigation since that witchy bitch is a key suspect, so she can’t go far without siccing the police force on herself,_ he said.

“You seriously don’t think Chloe’s going to have an issue with a random cat hanging around her investigation?” asked Maze. Lucifer hissed irritably, which set Maze off in another fit of laughter. 

_We’ll have to convince her somehow._ he said once she’d calmed herself.

“Good luck with that,” said Maze critically.

“Good luck with what?” came Chloe’s voice from the elevator. The cat and the demon turned in surprise to look at her, and Chloe stopped short and stared back. There was silence for a moment before-

“Oh my god that cat is beautiful! I didn’t know Lucifer had a cat!” she said excitedly. Lucifer and Maze exchanged a look, and Maze fought back a laugh.

“Oh yeah, he just got him,” she said, grinning.

“Where is Lucifer, anyway? I need to talk to him about the case,” Chloe looked around curiously. Lucifer’s eyes widened, anticipating Maze’s response.

“He, uh, had to go away late last night,” Maze replied. Chloe looked at her in surprise, then hurt crossed her expression. “He said to say he’s really sorry, there was a, uh, family emergency,” she finished weakly. 

“Oh. Um. Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I guess there’s not a lot he can do about something like that but he could have said goodbye first,” Chloe huffed, obviously irritated at Lucifer taking off again. “Who’s looking after the cat?” she asked, eyeing the exotic looking feline curiously.

“We are!” Maze said, flashing a slightly evil grin at Lucifer. He felt his stomach drop into his feet. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

“What, at our place?” asked Chloe incredulously. “I wish you’d asked me first, we don’t even know if that cat’s safe to be around kids. It’s huge, what if it decides it hates Trixie? She’s never been around a cat before, I don’t think she’d hurt it but she doesn’t know anything about cats! She could hurt him by accident!”

Maze smiled at her, unfazed. “I guarantee he’ll be fine with the kid, Chloe. He’s a good cat.”

“Coming from you, that’s not exactly a glowing recommendation.”

“Do you honestly think I’d put Trixie in a position where she could get hurt?” demanded Maze.

Chloe looked abashed, but replied, “I’m just concerned about my daughter, Maze.”

“I understand. You can trust me though, and trust Lucifer, this cat would never harm her.” 

Chloe still looked concerned, but gave in. “Okay, fine, we can keep the cat. Does he have a name?”

Maze stumbled over the question, glancing at Lucifer before grinning wickedly. “No, I don’t think Lucifer got a chance to name him. Want to do the honours?” 

_Oh shit._ thought Lucifer.

An grin equal in wicked humor to Maze’s spread across Chloe’s face. “Satan,” she said decisively. Maze laughed loudly, and Lucifer ducked his head to roll his eyes where Chloe couldn’t see. _Seriously?_

“That’s priceless,” Maze said, still laughing. “It’s perfect, Satan it is.”

The newly christened Satan sighed. What had he done to deserve this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone curious, [this](https://orig00.deviantart.net/ee98/f/2015/029/a/4/leopard_by_robbie_kay_is_mine-d8fwzwe.jpg) is what Lucifer's cat form looks like:


End file.
